Category Archives: writing

The picture looks outwardly drastic, it’s the apple of discord. We see the striking contrast between visual story and the mastery of listening it. The artworks are the transformational. Thus now, your interpretation will make the last brush stroke.

It‘s hard to name the reality properly: the jobcentre sees me as the uneducated, despite the study of the Scripture that have taught me everything I needed to know. God‘s Word teaches endurance in the flow of the current misunderstandings.

Like this:

I bought a lottery ticket. It cost 1$, but I didn’t lose a penny – I win one dollar too. So today became my lucky day: I lost nothing. Was that not a dream?
Thus there are no wonder I didn’t stop buying the lottery tickets – I still have hope to improve my being: to change the sad reality of the living on a disability pension to asunny today. The lottery is my only way to do that.

“Time is what you have left.. you just march with it and use it the best you can”– Frank Stella

Like this:

This is a pot – not the artwork, but a simple shot of what’s on my table, however I am going to frame it: to make a pot the distinctive page of my diary. So where is a key to this unsearchable action?
It is neither a shape of my pot, nor the colors of the image – it is the knowledge of what’s inside a pot. That is why the image looks so sweet to me : I saw how my wife was cooking a jam here, and that caused the magical transformation – my knowledge has made the ordinary pot into something worthy to remember, revealed a secret of my transformational art.

Like this:

“Kindness is the language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see.” ~Mark Twain

The yellow “Sentinel” never tires of watching the developments, guards the earth underfoot. The picture serves as a shield against the rational mind – proves Mark Twain’ definition of the kindness which equips us with the truth for the sharing. So the artwork returned myfreedom to choose: if we would visualize the passersby as the letters, what would we read?

… I became even ashamed for my satisfaction with the present moment. That may sound strangely, but if I am enjoying my now, that means I do not wish to improve the situation – the incurable do not wish to recover (!) Can it be so?Faith, hope, and love… I think that faith and hope always point to the future and thus take us out of “here and now”- only the love has the power to cross this trap and bridges heaven to the earth – seemy images

Like this:

The mushrooms grow and have the same taste everywhere, yet, while moving from country to country, the approach to the gathering of the Edible Boletus differs greatly. The Lithuanians and I in the concrete love the mushrooming – the wandering around the woods, but it‘s otherwise in Sweden or Germany – many “gather” the delicious “wood-bread” only in the shops.
The same relate to the fine arts. The colors please each eye, yet radiate the different message – the same image means different things in different countries. In spite of everything, we continue to muse about the global impact of the fine arts on our cultures.

Is that not the ABC of self-deception?

Yes, I like to paint, but what does that mean? How to relate my emotions to the current world events?
Do you know the picture that changed though some in our daily living needs?
No?
I also do not know, yet I am still creating my visual stories.

The documentary photograph „Copy of Copy“ stands like a sentinel over the sunbeam. It pleases the eye but do not allow me to close in the self-satisfaction amidst the fellow artists. I guess you wonder how this magic shot was taken, so here is a story.
While wandering around my town I came to a scenery that could not pass by. A huge stump stopped me. Yes. Not a tree but the stump: not the tree of life but the symbol of the remnants – the portrait of me…so I didnt fear the bars that dangled in front of the passersby any more. The door stood waiting for me and I stepped in- responded to the mystifying welcome.
Thus I appeared in the art therapy room where people with the psychiatric disorders were sitting around the table and drawing a sun… wow! Love inhabited a tiny room : the lights of the lovely drawings and the handicrafts dazzled me, shown with peace. So I forget the bars at a glimpse and took my camera. Everything bloomed here – richly provided me with a stuff for a sharing and I took my Canon Power-shot S80.
Life behind the bars did not allure but the works of art therapy class for mentally ill sat me in an awe. Do you recall the ‘serenity‘, the girl with her paper trimmings from my last post? Yes. She is one of the heroes here.